


Trust Games

by morganstern



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, References to sex trafficking, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 23:33:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1567991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morganstern/pseuds/morganstern
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eve is the one to cash the chip in the Macau casino. She needs Severine, almost as much as Severine needs hope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trust Games

**Author's Note:**

  * For [likeadeuce](https://archiveofourown.org/users/likeadeuce/gifts).



> AU in which Bond is temporarily out of commission and Eve takes point in the casino scene.

“I’d like to cash this in, please,” Eve said, sliding the chip across the counter. The woman froze for a second in surprise when she saw the token, eyes flicking up to Eve’s face with visible trepidation, before her mask of smiling professionalism slammed back down. 

“One moment, ma’am,” she said, and disappeared off behind the wooden screen.

Eve turned her back to the counter, watching to see who reacted to news of her arrival. By cashing the chip she’d pulled one thread in a massive web, and now she had to spot the spider. Out of the hundreds of people in the casino, there would be one person who would make the decision of what to do with her; one person who could lead her to whoever had the list of agents.

On the staircase a security guard raised a hand to his ear, looked over at her, and said something to the woman standing in front of him. Even though she only had a view of her back, Eve could tell she was stunning. Leaning against the banister, deliberately nonchalant, the woman blew out a mouthful of cigarette smoke and turned to face her. A slow smile Eve could only describe as predatory curved her generous mouth. 

Eve didn’t bother pretending she hadn’t seen them staring. She met the other woman’s eyes for a long moment, turning away only when two men approached her and presented an aluminum case. She flipped the catches on the suitcase and opened it, revealing neat rows of stacked Euro bills.

Deep inside her, Eve Moneypenny, middle-class child of ambitious parents, reeled a little in shock. She was holding more money than most people made in their entire lifetime; more than _she_ would ever make in her life. More than that, this was the blood money that had meant the exposure and deaths of an ever-rising number of operatives.

Eve Moneypenny, former Royal Navy lieutenant and MI6 agent, let no hint of her feelings show. She closed the case with calm satisfaction and took the handful of tokens offered to her by the second man. “Thank you,” she said, and went to find a place in full view to wait.

"Considering making a wager?" a rich female voice asked from beside her as she watched the roulette wheels spin.

Eve turned her head to take a long look at the woman from the staircase. She was even more striking in person, her dark makeup accentuating features that were already beautiful. Eve felt a tug of attraction, as anyone who saw the woman was no doubt intended to. But she could also sense something darker beneath the calculatedly attractive surface, something with sharp fangs that moved and smiled like a predator.

Her spider.

"I've lately come into several million Euros," Eve replied dryly. "I believe celebration is traditional."

The woman’s smile deepened. "Why don't you buy me a drink? Perhaps I can find you other ways to celebrate, Miss…?"

Eve took in the other woman's proximity, the way she leaned toward her, and thought: _Oh, so it's like that._ She tilted her head toward her with a smile, letting interest light up her eyes. “My name is Eve.”

“Severine,” the woman said, and led the way to the bar with Eve willingly caught up in her wake.

As the barwoman finished pouring their drinks, Severine settled back in her seat away from Eve, legs crossed in front of her. Despite the apparent distance between them, Eve felt the light pressure of a skillful foot trace a path up the inside of her calf, leaving tingling skin behind.

“We could continue this conversation somewhere more intimate, if you like,” Severine offered. The smile that curved her dark red lips said that she knew precisely what reaction her touch caused. For a moment Eve let her eyes linger in obvious appreciation. Severine was posed as though in a painting, her pose casual and deliberate all at once, displaying herself for maximum effect.

"I'd be more inclined to take you up on that offer if you didn't have a Beretta strapped to your thigh," Eve replied, certain she could guess what would happened if she did indeed follow Severine into a more private room.

Severine didn't blink an eye. "I'm sure you understand," she said. "Particularly when that chip you just cashed in was recently taken off the body of a business associate of ours."

"People without a head for heights should be careful what business they involve themselves in." Eve's tone was light but the threat was clear.

"Oh, I couldn't agree more." Severine's smile showed teeth. "Which leads me to wonder what you could be doing here."

"We’re looking for your employer." The words _I am not here alone_ hovered in the air between them.

Nothing changed on Severine's face, but her whole body stilled for a moment. Her eyes jumped back and forth, between Eve and something behind her, out of Eve’s line of sight. _Her guards,_ Eve realized. Then she leaned in toward Eve, unleashing the full intensity of her gaze.

"Trust me when I say that you don't want to find him."

She stubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray and moved to rise, but Eve caught her wrist. From the outside, the gesture looked light, but her grip was unyielding. Severine paused, and Eve leaned in to whisper into her ear, close as a lover. 

"You're scared," she murmured, knowing with sudden, complete certainty that it was true. She turned Severine’s wrist over, revealing an old tattoo. Eve had been briefed enough on human trafficking to recognize what it meant. She ran her thumb over it gently, then looked up to meet Severine’s gaze again. Severine’s eyes were wide with fear, her expression frozen and brittle - but the fact that she hadn’t broken Eve’s hold and walked away meant that she was at least listening.

Eve tried to put as much sincerity as she could into her own eyes. “You’ve been scared for a long time. You might have escaped from the sex trade, but you still aren’t free.”

Severine’s mouth trembled involuntarily, her composure shattering for an instant before she recovered. “You know nothing about it,” she whispered.

“I know when a woman is afraid and pretending not to be,” Eve replied.

Severine’s eyes flickered from Eve to her guards and back, a fly caught in a net instead of a spider. _She is a victim in this too,_ Eve thought, and used every ounce of self-control that she had to keep even a hint of pity from entering her expression. She didn’t need to be told to know that Severine would hate it.

"We have resources," Eve said softly. "We can deal with your employer and get you out of here into a new life. A new identity, a house, money. You won't have to be afraid any more."

The slight tremor in her hand, the widening of those dark eyes told Eve that her fish was almost on the line. Then Severine laughed silently, baring her teeth in what only the most unobservant agent would think was a smile.

"You think you can kill him?" she asked scornfully, looking Eve up and down. 

Eve let her own mouth curve into a humourless smile, remembering a body falling down into empty air. “I’ve killed better men,” she said. "He won't be in a position to do anything to you when we're done with him.” The deaths of far too many agents weighed down her words and lent them a stone-cold certainty.

She didn't let her expression falter. After a moment Severine's gaze turned calculating again. "Perhaps you can," she said, evidently reading something of Eve's intent in the bleak steadiness of her gaze. 

Severine seemed to come to some kind of decision, and her expression melted back into smooth composure, flirtatious and amused for the benefit of those watching. 

"When I leave, they will try to kill you. If you're lucky," she said, tone as casual as though they were discussing the weather. She rose from her seat at the bar. "If you survive, I'm on the Chimera. North harbor. Berth seven. We cast off in an hour."

* * *

The pistol was old, of dubious accuracy, and Eve wouldn't have been surprised if Silva had rigged the contest for his own amusement by giving her a faulty weapon. She took the gun and sighted along its barrel, trying to get a feel for its aim.

Severine's still, dark shape refused to resolve itself into the familiar range targets she was used to. Instead of neat circles, all she could see was Severine’s face. Her pale skin, her wild dark hair, her eyes, full of fear and hate, hope and despair. Terrified, but so very brave.

Eve lowered the gun, thinking as quickly as she could. From that distance, with a MI-6 issued hand gun whose sights had been calibrated to her, she would have been able to hit a shot-glass-sized target nine times out of ten. A first shot with an old dueling pistol? More a matter of luck than skill.

She raised the gun again, Severine’s dark hair wavering in and out of view over the sights. A long moment later she let her arm drop back down, and breathed. The gun barrel pressed to the back of her head weighed on her like an itch she couldn’t scratch.

Time. All they needed was more time.

Silva made an impatient noise next to her. “If you’re going to take all day, I might as well take my turn first,” he said. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him raise his own pistol.

“I’ve got it,” she said sharply, and lifted her arm to aim again. Silva chuckled and subsided, as she’d known he would. To kill Severine right away would spoil the game, but she knew he wouldn’t be put off again.

 _Take the bloody shot!_ M’s voice echoed in her mind, and Eve spared a moment of despairing, unreasoning hatred for both M and Silva, for everyone in this accursed business who felt they had the right to gamble with other people’s lives.

She pulled the trigger.


End file.
